Twelve Fifteen
by hattergems
Summary: Honey-bright sun. Silver-glowing moon. Nothing and neither. They stand together before the majestic clock tower once more. And he only says he can’t. He says it again and again, begging her like the child she never knew. KaiAoko.


**Summary: **Honey-bright sun. Silver-glowing moon. Nothing and neither. They stand together before the majestic clock tower once more. And he only says he can't. He says it again and again, begging her like the child she never knew. KaiAoko.

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan, Magic Kaito. Gosho Aoyama – *twitch* – he pwnz dem.

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**-Twelve Fifteen-**

hattergems

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_i will not give this clock to anyone_

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**12.15**

The sun was golden-bright on the even concrete blocks of the airy, open square, even though the majestic tower with doors of oak loomed haughtily above it all. The air, he remembered, had been peaceful, vague as magic and men and women milled happily about the green park, laughing, chatting, drinking in the honey-gorgeous day before their schedules took it away from them.

That was how it was when he saw her in her light pink frock, quietly standing apart from everyone else, with those soft locks of brown (_chocolate curls about her pure face – she looks anxious, he doesn't want –_). Behind her small figure, the sparkling iron-wrought clock hands were angled at quarter past twelve.

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**12.15**

It was almost impossible to distinguish the silver-glowing moon amongst all the splashing, glaring play of red and blue and white police lights. The loud whirring of helicopters fading in and out, the sounds of quick, enthusiastic discussion, (_– sand and chimes_) were all around, pushing in. The crowd was dense and locked, the square packed.

She was standing with everyone else in that throng, a wistful smile teasing her rose-lips when he found her. The round patterned face of the wise old clock tower behind them read a quarter past midnight.

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**12.15**

The streets are a frantic blur. No one to see, nothing to hear. There is only driving cruel-grey rain to feel, sharp icy air to (_stings, hurts, circus knives _–) breathe, the sensation of her water-darkened, soaked hair lashing the back of her neck as she runs. This is the world when she finds him, neither day nor night – there is not much of a difference anymore. (_any more – she doesn't care anymore, all she wants –_ _a second chance, please – give her a second chance_ –)

It is not anything where she is – because she sees him.

Before the serene clock tower, he stands – he sways; his prim white jacket, his scarlet tie, his blazing monocle: they aren't there. _Did you miss me, did you miss me? – But whatever for?_ His drenched thin cotton shirt is shredded blue ribbons and he is holding a shaking hand to his (_gaping, bleeding, oh god_ –) side. And he only says he can't.

Can't find it, can't _do_ it. He says it again and again, begging her like the child she never knew. She assures him that it is okay either way, that – _c-can't find _– he doesn't have to, and catches him in her arms – _in her embrace_ – when his legs finally give out.

They stand (– _lay_ –) together before the clock tower once more. Glistening pearls of raindrops thread though his still stubbornly untidy hair. They course down his cold cheeks for his tired sapphires that cannot cry.

Then he murmurs, _–__ but he is Kaitou Kid_. (– Until he finds _her_, then it'd be all over, he would stop and they could be together, _together_ – again. He doesn't tell that to the dripping girl though, because he already knows – _believes_ – that's what she desires. She hates him.) The girl pauses, letting the simple _pitter-patter_ of rain-silence stretch, letting the long hand of their (_theirs ever since _–) grand clock move a minute forward –

– and says he told her that already, a long time ago. And that it is okay, as well. His pale face is badly cut, but she leans forward and gives him a wet kiss on the forehead anyway (_he tastes of blood and frozen, sweet, sweet rain_). And wishes she hadn't left him when he told her that first time. But that is neither here nor there, and she should let him rest now.

She watches his smiling eyes close as she tries her best to protect him with her blood-sluiced jacket.

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_And then he dies! *sips tea whilst bullets shred the air around her* A very happy ending for Kaito! When you compare it to any SaguruAoko ending. _

_*tosses filled tea cup over shoulder*_

– _hatter||gems_

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End file.
